By the time James returned from his date with Lily on Saturday afternoon, both of Sirius' arms were cut to absolute shreds. It had been his only escape over the past six days, and James' obvious admiration of Lily was only growing.

It was now Saturday evening, and Sirius sat in the Great Hall with his friends. Though he hadn't eaten much all day, he barely ate as he sat and listened to the various conversations happening around him. He didn't feel much like talking, and the only person who seemed to notice this at all was Remus, who – much to Sirius' annoyance – continued in attempt after attempt to engage him in conversation.

"I can help you with McGonagall's essay if you want," he was saying. "I've already finished mine but I've noticed that you haven't even touched yours. What do you think? Sirius?"

"Yeah, sure." Sirius mumbled in the direction of his friend. "I guess." Remus narrowed his eyes in his direction.

"What do you mean, you guess?" Sirius continued to push his food around on his plate.

"Padfoot usually helps me with those." It was true. As James' favourite subject, he was generally the first to tutor anybody regarding Transfiguration. Remus seemed to notice his mistake and frowned slightly.

"Right, I forgot. I'm sure he'll help you then." The problem was that Sirius wasn't so sure that James would be helping him this time.

"Besides, I don't know why you two are so convinced that I always need help anyway. I'm capable of writing my own essays, you know." He continued, moodily.

"That wasn't how I meant it, Padfoot, and you know that." Remus answered gently. Sirius gave up on pretending eating and, careful to grab on to the bottom of his sleeve before doing so, rested his chin on left hand.

"It's rude to put your elbows on the table, Padfoot!" James pestered at him with a mouthful of food.

"It's rude to talk with your mouth full, Prongs." He answered with almost no conviction. James stuck his tongue out at him and went back to exploding snap game, which he had been challenged to by a sixth year. James was relatively well known as the best exploding snap player in the entire school, and as a result he was frequently approached by strangers during mealtimes who wished to take the title. So far, no one had succeeded.

Sirius, who was generally entertained by these challenges, had as of late found them to be annoying, as it was preventing James from paying any sort of attention to him. Tonight, he was feeling particularly glum.

"They say it might snow early this year," rambled Remus. "It's been colder than usual." Sirius answered with a noncommittal grunt. "You don't think that will affect the Quidditch season much, do you?" Sirius sighed.

"No, Moony. I don't think it will." Remus frowned again.

"Will you please just talk to me?" Sirius looked desperately at his friend.

"I don't feel like talking right now, Moony. Is it really that big of a deal?" Remus raised his eyebrows in response.

"Well, yes, a little bit. Normally, you never shut up." Sirius grumbled under his breath.

"Okay, well tonight, I'd rather stay, quiet, okay?" Remus looked at him exasperated.

"Will you please just come out about what's bothering you?" Sirius shot him a glare and put a finger to his lips.

"Will you shut up?" He snapped. "You're gonna draw attention!" Remus put down his fork and rubbed at his eyes in frustration. "Nothing's bloody bothering me, okay? I'm fine!" He pulled his wand out of his bag and started to levitate his fork above the table. Remus continued to stare at him, but said nothing. After a while, Sirius' patience got the better of him. "What?!" He spat at his friend.

"I don't believe you." Remus said flatly. He returned to his dinner without speaking another word. Irritated, Sirius let his fork drop to the table. The noise caused a few startled students to turn and look at him, including James, who seemed to take note of the glare written across his face.

"What's the matter, Prongs?" He asked. While he did look genuinely concerned, Sirius was simply annoyed that he hadn't noticed him earlier.

"Oh now you notice me." He snapped, standing from the table and pulling his bag over his shoulder. "Because I don't bloody exist unless there's something wrong me." He caught James' bewildered look and didn't give him a chance to answer. "Save it, Prongs. I'm fine." He turned toward the door, brushing past the dark haired boy as he went. "Go back to your bloody game."

Without waiting for a response from James, he stormed out of the Great Hall, feeling simultaneously angry and depressed. How dare they act like it's any of their fucking business why he isn't speaking? And how dare James think he can just ignore Sirius as long as there's nothing wrong with him? Fuck that. He didn't need this shit from two people who were supposed to be his friends. He didn't need them. He didn't need anybody.

Sirius briefly considered returning to the common room, but decided he didn't want to deal with anyone who might be there either. Instead, he stomped off toward the trophy room, smirking to himself. No one was ever in there.

He found himself having to roam the hallways for a long while before he was able to find it, which was unusual for him because on a normal day, he knew the school better than a map. But his mind was distracted, and he instead had to retrace about three paths before he was able to figure out exactly where he was. When he finally reached his destination, darkness had fallen entirely, and the only lights in the room were a single, dying torch, and light of the moon reflecting off the golden surfaces of the trophies. He stared at them for a moment.

After a few minutes, he broke himself of his reverie and sat himself in a far corner of the dark room. He rummaged through his bag for a minute and came out with the shining, silver pocketknife. He smiled slightly at the object which, in recent times, had become his best friend. He pulled up his sweater sleeve, pausing momentarily to look at the cuts scattered across his arm and wrist. He did so again with the other arm before flipping the knife open and placing the blade against his skin.

He didn't need them, he thought, as he pulled the blade across his arm and watched the blood bead up in the pretty little line he'd grown so accustomed to seeing. He didn't need any of them.

He moved the sharp edge to another untouched location on his arm and started this process again.

He especially didn't need James. Not now, not ever. What should it matter to him what James did with his love life? It shouldn't, and it didn't. Not at all.

Sirius stayed in the trophy room for a half hour, adding cut after cut to his arsenal of lines and scars. As the moon reflected off the trophies, and the torch died down, he began to calm down. The anxiety that had been building up inside of him throughout the day began to die away, and the anger that had balled in his chest began to dissipate. He wasn't crying, this time, but the tightness that he'd been feeling in his throat, which threatened him with the prospect, began to loosen. As Sirius sat and watched the beads of blood drip down the pale, marred surface of his arms, he began to relax.

He stayed on the floor for another ten minutes or so after returning his knife to his bag, staring out into the dark, abandoned corridor. He was okay. Whatever his friends said, he was okay.

Finally, Sirius found it in himself to stand, and he started, slowly, down the corridor toward Gryffindor tower. He knew that if he stayed out much longer, one of his friends would come looking for him, something that he bitterly knew would be all too easy for them, thanks to that ruddy map of theirs. Chances are James was probably already aware that Sirius had spent the last 40 minutes or so in the trophy room. Thankfully, though, he wouldn't be able to tell what he had been doing.

Sirius was able to stretch his walk back to the common room to a full 20 minutes, and when he found himself approaching the Fat Lady and the portrait hole, he had to fight the urge to run back to the safety of the trophy room. He sighed.

"Tempus Fugit" He told the portrait, glumly. She swung forward, silently, and he crawled into the warm and brightly lit common room. Somehow, this didn't make him feel any better. He scanned the room for any sign of his friends and found none, and sighed again knowing that they must already be upstairs. He started slowly up the staircase.

He didn't really want to face either one of them, following the altercation that they'd had a dinner time. He continued on, though, knowing that it was necessary.

When he opened the door to the boy's dormitory, he was unsurprised to find both James and Remus inside. Remus was lying on his bed, reading a book, and James was playing with his snitch in the middle of the room. Sirius' flickered over to James' bedside table, where he saw the map rolled open and lying next to his wand. So his suspicions had been correct, and James had been tailing his whereabouts.

"Would you mind not spying on me, James?" He asked, irritably, tossing his bag on his bed side table and flopping down on top of the sheets. He heard James sigh from across the room.

"Still mad at me, then?" He asked. Sirius didn't answer and James got up and sat on the edge of his bed, forcing the former to slide over to avoid being sat on. Remus closed his book and quietly left the room. "Look, I'm sorry if it seems like I've been ignoring you lately." He told him sincerely. "I've been a little caught up with everything that's going on with Lily, and you're right, I haven't been fair to you guys."

"No, you haven't." Sirius said shortly, staring up toward the ceiling from his position on his back. "You bloody abandoned me on Sunday, too, you know." A guilty look crossed James' face.

"I know, mate. I'm sorry. But you've got to understand how exciting all of this is for me. I've been after this girl for years, and I finally have her. Try to imagine what that's like, Padfoot, and tell me how you'd behave." Sirius grabbed a pillow and shoved it over his face. He resisted the urge to scream into it. "Anyway, after you went off on me today I thought about it for a bit and you're right, and I'm going to stop treating you guys like you're second rate now. You're still my best mates. Especially you." Beneath his pillow, Sirius blinked back tears. "Is that… is that why you've been acting so strangely lately?" James asked him, tentatively.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius removed the pillow from his face. He didn't know how to respond and ultimately decided to deny it altogether.

"I don't know why you're so adamant about something being wrong me." He said, trying to sound annoyed but not quite pulling it off. "I'm fine." James just stared at him. "Fine." Sirius said shortly, realizing that he wasn't about to buy it. "Yes and no," he answered, truthfully. James appeared to be waiting for an elaboration but when Sirius didn't follow up, he spoke again.

"You know, Padfoot, it really kind of hurts me that you're refusing to tell me what's going on. I thought you trusted me and now you're shutting me out all of the sudden and I don't understand why."

Sirius felt horribly guilty at the idea of hurting James, but at the same time he knew he would never be able to tell him exactly what was going on.

"I just…" He started slowly. "I just don't want to lose you to her." He settled for saying. He wasn't lying, and James didn't need to know the extent to which he meant that.

"You won't, mate." James said strongly. "I promise. Lily's great," he continued, and Sirius put the pillow back over his face. "Lily's great but she can't ever replace my best mate. We've been here for each other since we were eleven years old. You can be damn sure I'm not going to throw that away. Okay?" Sirius nodded beneath his pillow. He heard James sigh from beyond it. "I know you're crying under there." He told him. Sirius felt himself blush as James picked up the pillow and he tried to as discretely as possible wipe the wetness from his face.

James put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispered, though not entirely sure what he was apologizing for. James shook his head.

"Don't be. I'd be just as scared if I felt like I was losing you." He stopped to think for a moment. "Actually, I'd probably be an even better wreck." Sirius closed his eyes. "So how about tomorrow we go flying together? You and me. No girls allowed." Sirius smiled a little bit and nodded. A grin broke across James' face. "Good. Because I'm kicking your ass."

"You wish." Sirius answered in a slightly wavering voice. "You wish, Potter." James got up and retrieved the snitch from above Remus' bedpost and walked into the bathroom.

Remus reentered the room, mumbling something about a quill he'd left in the common room, and Sirius pulled his curtains shut, trying to figure out how he was going to hide his cuts from James during the following day.